Insomnia (a poem)

Night has wrapped its velvet blanket

‘round everyone but me.

All are sleeping, all are dreaming,

everyone but me.

Lying, dying, staring at the roof,

wondering what I did, what I should, what I will.

All I want is for a sign,

that I too will sleep.

It visits each night on its hollow-backed horse,

crowing its delight at finding me awake.

“Think and think some more!” It cries,

“I’ve brought a score of lists, for you!”

If ever I find that stupid Sandman,

I’ll steal his bag and tie him to a tree

for daring to wander and pass me by.

“Come back Sandman, it was only a jest!”

Night has wrapped its velvet blanket

‘round everyone but me.

All are sleeping, all are dreaming,

everyone but me.